Something From Nothing
by tigerkitten
Summary: Trip/T'Pol. At long last, the end is here! Unexpected activity from a hostile, abandoned planet gives Trip and T'Pol the chance to see beyond their misconceptions. Major errors and mis-pasting in Ch. 4 have been corrected.
1. Caught Unaware

Disclaimers: Please insert your own witty "I'm just having fun, Paramount, please don't sue me" disclaimer here.

Authors Notes:This story was a long time in coming…actually since somewhere around the first episode. It's also my first attempt, so constructive criticism really, truly would be appreciated. Please don't flame, I'm terribly sensitive :)

Chapter 1: Caught Unaware

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His hands were soft and strong as they moved along her skin. Everywhere his hands brushed became heightened in sensation. The blue light seemed to deaden all of her senses except for touch. The gel made her skin tingle as she tried not to notice his breath on her neck while he worked. And when he touched her ears….

T'Pol awoke with a start, blinking rapidly several times in her agitation. She raised a delicate eyebrow at her own sign of weakness. She refused to ponder how her sleeping mind could escalate such a minor event. Had she been privy to emotions, she might have thought herself a fool. Pointedly pushing aside the disturbing thoughts, T'Pol closed her eyes and immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

She awoke the next morning to an odd sense of annoyance. Expelling a small, sharp breath, she prepared to rid herself of the obvious influence that the humans were having upon her. The discipline of meditation would refocus her energies. Before she could begin, the ship's comm emitted a frantic, disgruntled voice.

"Engineering to T'Pol."

"Yes, Commander Tucker."

"Hope I didn't disturb you," he said, causing her to blink in near confusion before she realized he was only talking about his call. "We're getting crazy readings from the planet below. Thought maybe you'd have some ideas."

"I'll be right there," she replied, with an almost overwhelming urge to sigh.

Engineering was a flurry of activity when she entered. She spotted Cmdr. Tucker as he whizzed past her, checking readings and shouting orders. She had to follow him bouncing to three different locations before she could grab his attention and ask, "You asked for my help, Commander?" She thought she saw a small grimace flicker across his face at the question.

Leading her to the sensor's monitor, he began without preamble, "Right here. That's where it's coming from. Hoshi's not detecting any civilizations or higher lifeforms. We just can't get a lock on it."

"On what, Commander?"

"On whatever it is that's messing with the ship," Trip declared in exasperation, not looking up.

Checking the sensor readings, T'Pol replied, "There does not appear to be anything wrong with Enterprise."

"Yeah," he remarked turning to her, his hand flying up to emphasize his point. "Nothing, nothin' at all. Nothin' except we aren't moving," he drawled sarcastically.

"What do you mean?," she asked, struggling to keep annoyance out of her voice.

"Just what I'm saying. The engines are running, everything's fine. We're just not goin' anywhere."

"Archer to Engineering."

"Go ahead, Cap'n," Tucker said, swallowing his frustration.

"Trip, is T'Pol there with you?"

Glancing to the side he replied, "Yessir."

"Good, I need both of you in my ready room."

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The meeting with the Captain hadn't told them anything they didn't already know. The ship had come to a complete halt. That there was some force in the vacinity of the planet holding them back was obvious. Without a sign of intelligent life or civilization to cause the disturbance, they were still at a loss as to the source. The only sign of life had been an abandoned settlement of rock-hewn houses, but nothing to indicate a scientifically advanced culture. Travis had detected massive readings of ion dust storms that were interfering with their scans of the planet, but they were moving too quickly to see through them. "There are dozens of them," he told Trip as they left the ready room, "Every time one moves out of the way, it's only about thirty seconds before another one moves in to take its place. Some of those storms are so big it'll take days for them to pass, even at the speeds they're moving."

As they turned to head for engineering, T'Pol began to lecture. "Perhaps the problem is with the sensors. If there is nothing to indicate a source on the planet, it would seem reasonable to assume that is not the cause of the disturbance."

"There's nothing wrong with the sensors," Trip snapped, stopping short. T'Pol stopped as well. "I've gone over everything about a hundred times. Hell, while Her Lady of Logic was dreaming pleasant thoughts, I was up half the night in engineering trying to figure out what's goin' on." He didn't notice the slight twinge that crossed her features as he went on. "I'm telling you, whatever's got us stuck like a pig on a spit is coming from that planet!" He was facing her head on now, leaning so far towards her that they were almost nose to nose.

"Nevertheless," she went on with a veneer of dignity, "Without adequate information from the surface, speculation on the nature of the disturbance is hardly productive. Therefore it's illogical to assume that no other force could be at work."

"Well if I could get 'adequate information' from the surface," he snapped, "then I wouldn't have to speculate, now would I?" He went on, his voice steadily rising, "or maybe you'd prefer that we just sit here for the next hundred years while you try to think of a *logical* source?"

"My thoughts exactly," interrupted the Captain. They snapped their heads as one in his direction, she with her usual enigmatic countenance, he with his lips pursed in irritation. "Trip, T'Pol, I want you two down on the surface. Try to figure out what's causing the disturbance, and dismantle it if you can. Hoshi's been able to detect mild fluctuations from the region of the village, but it'll be up to you two to pin it down."

"Cap'n, with all due respect," Tucker began, "I appreciate the chance to get down there, but I don't think I can fly through those storms."

"You won't be," he replied as realization began to dawn on the engineer, "The air is heavy, but breathable, so you can travel light. Travis says we've got a good window coming up, so I need you two to the transporter. Pronto." He nodded his head at them both, ignoring the nauseated look on Trip's face.

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"You sure you know how to operate this thing, Travis?," Trip said, looking up in apprehension at the ceiling of the transporter pad. "It could get a little tricky with those storms blowin' around down there."

"No problem," he replied, "The window's good for at least thirty seconds. Plenty of time to get you there safely."

"Somehow, that ain't all that reasurring. Thought we were only using this thing for emergencies."

"This is," Travis replied a bit sheepfaced, "At least we already know it works. Not like we have much choice, really. We can't stay here or pretty soon we'll have to tap into emergency systems just to keep life support going." He looked down as the console beeped in warning. 

"Wow."

Seeing the raised eyebrows on both of the passengers, Travis went on. "Uh, well, this could be a problem. There's a huge storm rolling in behind this next one. Looks like you'll have maybe an hour to get out of there before you get stuck for days."

Trip sighed in resignation "It's alright. We've got supplies for a day or two if we need 'em. We can't just sit here waiting for it to pass." Glancing at T'Pol for confirmation he said, "We're ready."

Trip held his breath as he watched Travis push the controls forward. Before he thought to let it out again, they were on the surface. The sudden feel of uneven ground beneath his feet already had him off balance when they were hit with a forceful gust of grit filled wind. "Looks like the next storm's picking up already," he yelled over the grating howl, but T'Pol shook her head to show she couldn't hear. Ducking his head further, he pointed to the nearest structure and they started towards it.

"Phew! That was somethin'," Trip yelled over the muted howl as they stood just inside of a windowless hallway. "That thing got a door or something?" T'Pol nodded and moved to close the door as he craned his neck to see into the room behind him. When he'd turned back she had the door already closed and was walking towards him. Trip opened his mouth to remark on her strength when a strained groan shuddered through the ceiling and T'Pol began to run. He'd barely registered the deafening crash of the falling stone when all turned to blackness.


	2. Stir Crazy

Authors Notes:This story was a long time in coming…actually since somewhere around the first episode. It's also my first attempt, so constructive criticism really, truly would be appreciated. Please don't flame, I'm terribly sensitive :)

Chapter 2: 

She wasn't moving. As his head cleared, he was aware of that before anything else. After that came the aching where debris had hit him, his scraped hands and face, the shooting pain in the knee he'd landed on. But first came the sinking realization that she wasn't moving. It seemed much longer than the moment it took for training to take over thought and fear. He winced as he tried to get up, and in the end he half crawled, half staggered to her side.

Only a small portion of her still face peeked out from the rubble that covered her shoulder and most of her head. It lay against a widening dark stain. As his stomach did another flip, a slight twinge of pain crossed her face.

"T'Pol? Try not to move, I'll get you out."

As he struggled to rise, Trip flicked open his communicator. "Tucker to Enterprise." There was no response. "Enterprise? This is Commander Tucker. We have a situation planetside." Sighing in defeat, he moved painfully to the rock pile that had the subcommander pinned.

He worked slowly to avoid hurting her further, and his muscles strained in pain as he worked. Before he had the last rock in his hands, she began to stir. Setting it down quickly, he moved to help her to a sitting position as she began to rise. She tried weakly to wave him away, but only succeeded in weaving off balance and falling against him. 

"Easy, there," he crooned, "nice and slow now." With his help this time, she managed to sit straight up and stay there. Blood trickled down her face and into her eyes. "That's quite a gash you got there," he said as he pulled off his pack. "Good thing I've got the med kit." He pulled out the kit and opened it, careful to keep it away from the dust that stirred with every movement. "Too bad that you had most of the food, though," he said, grinning sardonically. Eyes fluttering, T'Pol merely looked at him and tried to nod.

Once he'd cleaned the wound and wrapped her brow in gauze, T'Pol tried to stand. This time she fell forward into his shoulder, her breath coming out in wisps against his collar bone. Trip tried to ignore the tickling sensation her breath sent down his spine. "All right now. We'll move away as soon as I've seen to the worst of these," he drawled, pushing her back against the heap and taking up a seat next to her. Leaning over her, Trip cut away T'Pol's right sleeve to reveal a deep laceration along her forearm. "Ouch," he muttered, shaking his head.

As he bent over her, Trip's scent filled her nose. His hair smelled faintly of soap, now overladen with dust. His body was a mix of the human smells she was coming to tolerate. More recently, she'd begun to note a distinction unique to the male scent. He smelled of sweat, certainly, and just a touch of engine oil. There was also the scent of the carnivore; warm, rich and vital. Drifting through it all was something intangible, but not unpleasant; an essence subtly unique to him that made T'Pol's nose tingle and her senses hum. As he leaned in further, there was a sudden, intense increase in that ethereal bit, and she breathed in deeply, feeling light-headed.

Trip tried to work quickly and focus on his task. He told himself that he had to be sure there was no chance for infection. That was the only reason he moved so slowly and repeated the cleaning process more times than strictly necessary. He told himself this as he struggled to keep his eyes forward, and not let them stray sideways to the part of T'Pol visible out of the corner of his eye. With a strangled sigh, he placed clean gauze over the gash and wrapped up her arm.

Sitting up, he delved into the bag once more, and pulled out a pack of water rations. Opening it carefully, he passed it to T'Pol and received a nod in thanks. She croaked a bit as she tried to ask "Enterprise?" but Trip saw that she was looking stronger already. He shook his head in response, "I couldn't get through." 

Moving more surely now, T'Pol pulled her own communicator from her belt with more of her customary grace. "This is Subcommander T'Pol to the Enterprise. Please respond." Not surprisingly, there was no answer. "Must be the storm," Trip remarked.

"Have you any idea how long we were unconscious?," she asked, standing slowly.

"None," he replied standing as well, "Might have been a few minutes, might have been as much as an hour. And if that's the case…"

"Then we are here for several days."

He pursed his lips, but he didn't disagree. Turning to look around, Trip saw that they were about midway down the long front hall. He had been about to peer into the room at it's far end when the front half of the hall had collapsed, bringing down portions of the ceiling onto both of them.

"Well, however long we're here, we already know we don't want to spend the time right here. Leaning down to pick up both packs, he waved to the end of the hall. "If you're feeling strong enough to walk, let's get into that next room."

She nodded her agreement and began to move, sliding away from his attempt to support her elbow. Moving carefully, he watched as she walked with much of her usual grace, her hips swaying a bit as she drifted a little unsteadily to the side. Before he could reach out to her, she righted her path and passed through the doorway.

The room inside was as blank and bare as the hallway. There was a recessed shelf cut into the rock wall, about knee height, in the corner. It was long enough that it might be used as a bed or a couch. There was no other furniture. T'Pol turned to sit down, and Trip quickly turned his head so that she wouldn't think he'd been watching her walk. He was pretty sure he was convincing enough for her, but not quite enough to convince himself.

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"Don't fall asleep!" he said sharply, jolting her just as she'd started to dose. He was looking down at from the doorway at the back of the room, his lips drawn up in annoyance. Sitting on the shelf, her head still leaning to the corner, she arched a brow almost irritably. "For what reason?'

"You can't sleep with a head injury! You might have a concussion."

"That is illogical. A concussion would require rest for recuperation. Why then shouldn't I sleep?"

"Don't you know anything about concussions? It could cause brain damage."

"Not for Vulcans."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? Seems to me that just because you're stronger doesn't mean your heads are any thicker. Then again, you Vulcans are known to be pretty pig-headed," he added, annoyance starting to seep through his words. "Do Vulcan Science Officers get medical training?"

"All Vulcans are trained in rudimentary survival first-aide."

"And what did that have to say about concussions?" When she didn't reply or look at him, he went on, "Ever even know anyone with a concussion?"

"No."

"Well we can't be too sure, then," he said emphatically. "That's one nasty bump you've got there, and we were both knocked out. I say we'd better play it safe and stay awake."

"For how long?"

"Well," said Trip, shifting a bit nervously, "until we're sure that we…that you're out of danger."

"And how do you propose we determine when that might be?"

Ignoring her question he said, "There's two more rooms off the next hallway. Smaller and thinner than the ones off this room, and just as empty. Hallway leads to an outside door, looks like. I was a little worried about air pressure collapsing that hallway, but it looked solid enough. Leads out to a sort of courtyard or compound surrounded by more buildings like this one. Door sealed tight as a drum when I closed it, too. It looks like some sort of hydraulics, but more sophisticated."

Knowing she had inexplicably lost another pointless argument with the commander, T'Pol welcomed the change in subject. "That would indicate that these people are more advanced than this dwelling suggests."

"I'll say. Looks like some of the walls are two to three feet thick of solid rock. That front door faces almost directly into the wind. Probably collapsed from centuries of standing against it. Anyway, whatever we're looking for isn't coming from this building. I'll try to get out to some of the others first thing in the morning. We're gonna need to find a food supply anyway…hey, now, no falling asleep!"

"Commander, your logic is faulty. I'm tired and I wish to rest."

"Ah-ah-ah! No you don't. That's it," rubbing his hands together, he looked at T'Pol with a determined glean in his eye.

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"I have no idea."

"C'mon, you have to give it a try. I'll help you," he says, cocking his hand around his ear as though repeating the motion. "Sounds like….."

"This is foolish. You're pantomime makes little sense, and does not resemble a physical hand-language in the slightest."

"Not even close. Goldfish. Here, try this one…"

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"Movies?"

"No."

"Restaurants?"

"Few. They are used mainly by visitors."

"Highways?"

"No."

"Rock music?"

"Certainly not."

"How about politics? Do you elect your leaders, or are they born to it?" Seeing her look he answered himself. "Right. Divine selection would be illogical. Of course they're elected."

"Why do you wish to know so much about a culture you have no liking for?"

"Just passing time. Anyway, I don't have anything against you personally."

"I find that difficult to believe, based upon our past interaction."

"Maybe when we first met. We've gotten along all right since then."  
"You tried to kill me."  
"Hey, you know that was the pollen talking. You turned into quite the wild woman yourself."

"I merely lost a small amount of self control."  
"Just what I said."

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"So, we took some of the…"

"Commander. Is there ever a time when you stop talking?"

"Sure I do. You know, my mama used to tell me I talked too much as a kid. She always said…"

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"Go ahead, it's your turn"

"No."

"Don't be a spoil sport. I blocked you with an 'X', now it's your turn."

"The game will only end in a tie, just as it has the last 17 times. It can only be won if someone makes a foolish mistake. Only a child could lose, and therefore no one can win."

"Well, sure. Everybody knows that. Come to think of it, I stopped playing when I was a kid, right about the time I stopped winning."

Looking almost annoyed, T'Pol's eyes swept off to the side as she dropped her stick.

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"I've never gotten this up close and personal with a Vulcan before. How 'bout you?"

"I know many Vulcans."

"Are you sure there's nothin' in the air here? You're getting' down right giddy."

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"A human."

"I haven't even started, yet! Watch this, now."

"A foolish human."

Trip glared at T'Pol, his lips drawn together in his ever-ready pout. "No-"

"A foolish human with abnormal medical training."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

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"And then, now this is my favorite part, the guy is halfway down the tower and his rope starts to break." Trip wiggled his head into a more comfortable position on his folded arms and tried to settle into the dirt floor. "See, he didn't understand that it would be less stable the longer it got. If he'd a known better he'd a known that the longer rope couldn't hold his weight the way the shorter one did. Course, it should have, but back then they thought …"

His words grew quieter as his eyes drifted shut. Allowing her own eyes to droop, T'Pol leaned back against the shelf wall and fell asleep.


	3. Day 2

Disclaimers: Please insert your own witty "I'm just having fun, Paramount, please don't sue me" disclaimer here.  
  
Authors Notes: Sorry for the long delay. I had absolutely no idea how the second day was going to go.  
  
Archive: Ask first, if only so I know of some new places for great reading.  
  
Chapter 3: Day 2  
  
He was having a wonderful dream. A deep, sultry voice was making very contented noises. A sharp gasp from her ended with a sigh, whispering his name. He could not see her face, or in fact anything at all but a muted glow. He could hear soft moaning, confused murmuring, and a good bit of shifting around. Slowly, as he drifted out of that half-wakeful state of sleep, he realized that there really were sounds in the room.  
  
Trip awoke, squinting at the brightness straight ahead. He was on his back looking up. The light in the room was nearly as bright as day, but not as glaring as the fluorescent lights on board ship. He'd noticed the strange glow on the ceiling the day before and wondered at it's source and intensity. He'd thought about asking T'Pol, but was afraid she'd know, and then she'd probably tell him. He'd been wondering vaguely about it while telling his story last night, before falling asleep. What with one thing and another, he hadn't gotten around to finding a source for that unusual glow that encompassed the entire ceiling.  
  
Suddenly, it hit him that they'd both been asleep.  
  
"T'Pol! T'Pol!," Trip whispered harshly.  
  
"T'Pol!," he repeated more loudly, and scrambling to her anxiously said, "Wake up! You fell asleep."  
  
"Of course, Commander," she said roughly, "It was night, or what passes for night in this environment."  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
Either he was getting better at reading her, or she sounded almost annoyed when she replied "Tired. Almost as if I were up half the night."  
  
He grinned sardonically, but couldn't resist one last jab as he rose to his feet. "You're awfully testy this morning."  
  
"I neglected to meditate last night."  
  
"Oh." After what felt like an uncomfortably long pause, Trip added lamely, "Sorry." After another pause, he said, "Do you forget very often?"  
  
"Never."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Well," Trip said, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, " I guess we'd better see what I've got left for rations, and rassle up some grub for breakfast."  
  
T'Pol raised an eyebrow at his excessive colloquialism, but merely replied, "I don't think that it would be wise to waste our few rations. I suggest that we forego the morning meal."  
  
"Nah, c'mon now. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. 'Sides, you need to build some strength back up. I can see you're barely sitting upright as it is."  
  
Whether she was still weak, or had just decided he was right, T'Pol acquiesced. Trip settled himself on the floor beneath her cot. T'Pol gingerly finished sitting up, but seemed to lean a bit toward the wall. Pulling the pack to him, Trip made humming noises as he sifted through it.  
  
"Okay, let's see now. We've got an oat snack bar, a barley snack bar, and a rice snack bar. A real gourmet selection. Which will it be?"  
  
"I'll take the rice."  
  
"Right, and barley for me. We'll save the oat for a nice, huge lunch later on. I've got a full water ration pack, so if we're careful we can make it last for at least two days."  
  
They ate in silence, the dry food sticking to their throats. Trip coughed a few times, but T'Pol continued to munch quietly. Trying to take another bite, Trip rasped out, "Good thing we don't have very many of these. We'd use up the water just trying to get them down."  
  
"All right," he said. "The way I see it, we got two options. We can either concentrate on getting in touch with Enterprise, or we can start off looking for food."  
  
"Vulcans can go for several days without food or water. But perhaps we should make certain that you are not in any danger."  
  
Trip was amazed that he didn't feel the usual twinge of bull-headedness these types of comments usually brought out in him. He merely replied, "Let's see if we can rig some sort of amplifier to contact Enterprise. They may have some more news on what's stopping the ship, or can even find a food source for us."  
  
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"Perhaps it's time we seek another option." She was sweating again from their exertions. The planet's sun was probably at its zenith outside, but the thick walls of the room kept out the midday heat. Even so, their close quarters had become increasingly warm. The small items that they had to work with necessitated close proximity, and it was starting to take its toll.  
  
"No, It'll work this time. I've re-wired the com with the beam rectifier from the broken tricorder. It should narrow the signal pattern and double the gain."  
  
"If the ions are disrupting transmissions, it's illogical to assume that a stronger signal will necessarily get through. Enterprise's own systems could not penetrate the electromagnetic fields generated by these storms. Bigger is not always better, Commander."  
  
Trip stopped short for a second, but decided she hadn't just implied what he thought she had. "One more try," he cajoled, seeing she'd about reach the limits of her patience. "Let me just run through this sequence of frequencies one more time." While he continued to concentrate on the work, he said nonchalantly, " We can pick up where we left off before." He glanced up long enough to grin at her. "Teach me another one."  
  
After a considered pause, T'Pol resigned herself, and used her best training voice to slowly pronounce, "Ti'kál Durít."  
  
"Tee-cál dúr-it."  
  
"Durít."  
  
"Dur-eet. Ti'kál Durít. What'd I say?"  
  
"You smell."  
  
He glanced sidelong at her with an annoyed scowl that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Har-dee-har," he said flatly, as her lips turned up a fraction. The changes were subtle, but he was definitely learning to read the signs of wry amusement on T'Pol's face. He'd even fancied he'd caught a glimmer of a smile, once.  
  
"Boy, that Vulcan humor of yours is getting out of control." Gazing down into her eyes, he went on, "You're turning into a real party animal."  
  
She stared at him unblinkingly, but he didn't see animosity in her eyes. Reaching out to squeeze her arm lightly, Trip said "Okay, teach me another."  
  
T'Pol flinched slightly, dropped her gaze, and said brusquely, "Not now. I'm tired."  
  
"Oh, right. Sure," he replied quickly, not quite sure what he'd done wrong this time. "You get some rest. I'll try to keep quiet." With that he gave up on the rigged transmitter, got up and moved off from her awkwardly.  
  
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Rather than risk disturbing T'Pol with his tinkering, Trip looked for something new to keep him occupied. Never one to leave a mystery unsolved, he turned on his heel, and strode out to the front hall.  
  
By Trip's reckoning, they'd been in this building for just about a full day. That was plenty of time to see how much care had gone into making it a structure that would last centuries. The weather on this planet was clearly brutal, but the thickness of the building showed its architect built the dwelling to stand against the elements.  
  
A sneaking suspicion had begun to take shape throughout the day. Stepping as carefully as he could, Trip started his way up the rubble. A few steps took him close enough to solve the first mystery. The glow on the ceiling was a sort of phospherescent lichen that seemed to thrive in this environment. With the ceiling collapse, most of the lichen was gone in this room, and what was left appeared dimmer and withering. Keeping his eyes focused high on the wall, Trip missed his footing in the dim light. The resulting slide of debris sounded like an avalanche to him, and he grimaced and glanced guiltily towards the room where T'Pol slept.  
  
Hearing no signs of movement, Trip crept higher up the pile. Just as his head was about to graze the remainder of the ceiling, he found what he was looking for. There, just below the rooftop, he found thick groves in the wall at regular intervals. They stretched down from the ceiling, and he could only assume, continued on to the floor. Smirking at the confirmation of his suspicions, Trip carefully made his way back down the pile.  
  
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He tried not to stare at her as he passed back through the room. Part of him dreaded what she'd have to say if he accidentally woke her. The other part was slightly anxious. Her features were so peaceful, and she lay so still that he could almost imagine life left her completely. He found himself staring, waiting for the even rise and fall of her chest, gazing at the metered expansion of her ribcage, marveling at the swell it added to her…uh…this probably wasn't a good line of thought to follow, he decided.  
  
Shaking his head to clear it, Trip stalked straight through the room and into the hall beyond. Turning a sharp right, he made his way immediately to the door outside. Vaguely, he was aware that there were no groves in the hallway leading to this door.  
  
The door opened easily enough, and might have even been silent, but it was hard to tell over the intense howling of the wind that blasted into him. Trip had made such a hasty retreat, that he wasn't prepared and was knocked almost to the floor by the first gust.  
  
Ducking down brought him under shelter of the walkway whose wall ended at this door. Mostly protected from the storm blowing stinging sand at him, Trip was able to reach up and grope for the handle to close the door. He hoped without much faith that the noise hadn't woken T'Pol.  
  
In his last trip out this door, he'd only stayed long enough to see that there was a courtyard and a walled walkway. Now Trip made his way, bent nearly double so that his hands almost grazed the stone path. The wall offered fair protection, being more than waist high if he'd been inclined to stand. He wasn't. He settled instead for shuffling his way behind the wall.  
  
The walkway led to a sort of juncture and spread out like spokes in a wheel to other buildings. Trip popped his head up for a cautious peek around, and ducked back down quickly. From the back, the buildings all looked pretty much the same. For that matter, they probably looked pretty much the same from the front, he mused. There was only so much you could do with rock. He'd seen enough to know that not all of the buildings were shaped the same as the one where they'd stayed. To his right, the one next to theirs was much wider, and the one next to it was wider still. Behind him, a building of identical shape immediately followed their dwelling. The same seemed to be true straight ahead.  
  
To his left, however, it appeared that he was seeing the front of the buildings. They had the same step-tier look to them that he'd suspected when inside his own. All together, they surrounded a square courtyard. He'd been up long enough to know he didn't particularly want to take another look. The wind seemed almost trapped in the courtyard, the buildings at the back being closer together than those at the front. With no way out, the wind just kept circling the enclosure, filling up with more dust and sand as it swirled. He'd been able to see how it was starting to collect in huge drifts by the back buildings, the piles starting to flow out into the courtyard and threatening to overtake the wall.  
  
One direction being as good as another, Trip turned down the walkway to his right, nearly running, 4-legged to the next building. Mercifully, the door opened easily, and he dashed inside. He stood up and quickly closed the door behind him, but he almost wished he hadn't.  
  
Once the door closed the darkness was nearly completely. Trip hadn't realized how he'd come to count on the lichen on the ceiling, and he'd forgotten to grab the flashlight on his dash to leave. The air here felt more oppressed, and he could hear low scuttling down a far hallway. The dim light was enough for him to move around, but he wasn't particularly keen on finding the source of the noise.  
  
There were hallways in either direction, and straight ahead was a doorway. Making his way through it, Trip saw the hazy outlines of a narrow room, much like the one where T'Pol lay. This one was much longer, but barely half as wide. Straight ahead, he could see the long hallway leading to the front door.  
  
In three strides, he was across the room and starting towards the far door. He thought about feeling for grooves in the walls, but decided he was afraid of what else might be living or growing there. He was nearly to the door, when he tripped on something jutting up from the floor.  
  
Cursing, he tried to see what it was, but eventually gave it up. "Guess I'd come back with the light. Might as well wait until T'Pol can come with me," he mumbled to himself.  
  
"Okay, little critters," he called out to the empty room. "I'm gonna shove off now, so you just stay where you are. You don't bother me, and, uh, I won't bother you," he said, looking around as backed out of the hallway.  
  
Suppressing a shiver, Trip turned and began his way back to his dwelling. "Don't really want to leave T'Pol all alone anyway," he thought to himself in an almost convincing manner. "Probably gone into a coma from head trauma, already." Struggling with unwarranted apprehension, he rushed to get back.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
He was being as quiet as he could while she continued to sleep. Too bad Trip Tucker had never been very good at sitting still.  
  
"I'll just peek in on her real quick," he told himself. Nevermind that he'd already checked on her twice. Truth be told, he was bored and missed having someone to talk to. Or at least fight with.  
  
He'd tried to keep to the other rooms. After the third pass through the main room, it finally occurred to him to take the rigged comm with him to work on. He'd fiddled with it for a bit, but just couldn't concentrate, still worried about T'Pol's sleep. Funny thing about that. He'd have thought with the so-called superior Vulcan physiognomy, she'd be feeling better by now.  
  
After what seemed like the forty-second pass through the small building, Trip returned to the main chamber where he was surprised to see T'Pol rising from the stone cot.  
  
"You're awake!" he cried with unguarded delight.  
  
"Obviously. It is somewhat difficult to sleep deeply when someone is shuffling loudly through your sleeping chamber repeatedly."  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, brow furrowed, and more than a little confused at her unexpected change in attitude. He'd hoped that a little more sleep would make her appear less grumpy. Maybe he was just reading too much into her, though. Trip tried to remind himself that Vulcans could come off cold when they meant nothing at all.  
  
"I would have thought you'd be able to occupy yourself with something more productive than wearing a path in the floor," she replied, looking so hard into his eyes, that Trip had the impression she was looking right through him and not seeing him at all.  
  
"Well excuse me for caring if your busted head ever heals!"  
  
"As usual, your emotions have interfered with your ability to do your job efficiently. Your time would have been better spent investigating the unique qualities of our environment for some clue to the cause of Enterprise's distress."  
  
Trip was so mad he could have spit. He'd just spent the better part of the last hour worrying about whether or not she should even be asleep, and she wakes up meaner than a molting snake on a hot summer day.  
  
"Well it's nice to see you've woken up to your old charming self! It just so happens I did do a bit of poking about while you were out. Just take a look at this!" he cried, stalking off towards the front hall. T'Pol strode easily after him.  
  
He'd been carrying the flashlight for a while, and pointed its beam at one wall. "Just take a look at that!"  
  
"It's a wall. And a large pile of debris that my head remembers quite well."  
  
"Thank you, Miss Superiority. I'm talkn' about the grooves in the wall," he spat, anger punctuating his words with a sharper twang than normal. "Jest about the same width as that door frame, i'n't it? I've been thinking about that collapse for hours. With that long hallway, the grooves, hell, the shape of the whole building, I'd be willing to bet it was all intentional. Why the front of this building faces practically right into the wind. I'll bet they built that hallway so they could move the door back as the wind started to wear away the building," he finished smugly, nodding his head for emphasis.  
  
"A logical deduction," T'Pol replied placatingly. She looked at Trip, but he appeared unwilling to back down. She continued, "I apologize if I have seemed rude to you. It has been some time since I last meditated."  
  
Trip dropped his eyes in confusion. He'd never heard a Vulcan apologize before. Not sincerely, anyway. "Yeah, well, s'okay. I'm usually a real bear when I first wake up. Anyway, I'm still not sure what caused the collapse. Guess they had their calculations off, and the wind came at if from an angle. Seems a little strange for them to make that kind of mistake though."  
  
"Perhaps they didn't. It may be that the planet's weather patterns have altered slightly since the structure was completed."  
  
Nodding acquiescence, Trip led the way back out to the main room. "Were you able to explore any of the other structures?" T'Pol wanted to know.  
  
Sheepishly, Trip admitted, "Well, it's not too bad trying to get to them, but I only looked around in one for a minute or two.  
  
"Was there nothing there?"  
  
Not anxious to admit squeamishness, Trip mumbled "It was kinda dark, but I heard stuff."  
  
"Stuff?"  
  
"Yeah, you know…scuttling." Seeing T'Pol's raised eyebrow, he went on, "I don't like bugs much, okay? I'm a space junkie. Besides, these sounded kinda…big."  
  
"Do you mean big enough to eat?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The scuttling began immediately after they'd closed the door behind them. The long hallway branched out both directions, but their flashlights found no sign of anything living.  
  
"I believe the sounds are coming from the front," T'Pol said, pointing her light in that direction.  
  
Wiping a grimace from him face, Trip grinned widely and sweeping his arm forward replied, "Ladies first."  
  
Pointedly ignoring him, T'Pol went through the narrow room to the hallway on the other side.  
  
Her flashlight was pointed toward the floor, and as it swept through the hall, two points of light reflected back at her. T'Pol pulled up short, giving Trip the chance to catch up with her. There in front of them, sitting on a rock jutting out from the floor, was a large, vole-like creature. It sat upright, measuring about a foot and a half off the ground.  
  
The creature had no fur to speak of, but instead was covered in a spiky mass, much like a porcupine, though the quills were shorter and thicker. At the base of it legs, its three-toed feet ended in massive claws, each easily measuring three to four inches, and looking as strong and sharp as a hunting knife. Its two front paws had smaller versions of the same, and they held the remains of something which it popped into its mouth.  
  
The creature continued to stare directly into the flashlight, its eyes glowing in a disturbing fashion. As they watched, it reached over to the wall, and brought back in its paw a beetle nearly half a foot long. It took the bug between both hands, and calmly took a large, crunching bite.  
  
T'Pol swept the light in a quick arc. It was long enough to see patches of the huge beetles covering the walls and ceiling. Trip said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't tried to touch the walls.  
  
"Well," T'Pol said at last, "It appears that we've found something we know is edible."  
  
"And crunchy… Ew, it sounds like they're all bones. Uh, maybe we'd be allergic to the bugs. Or maybe that thing wouldn't take too kindly to us helping ourselves in his kitchen. Hey, do you think we can talk to it?"  
  
T'Pol removed the bioscanner from her belt. The quick movement caught the creature's eye, and it left its perch and moved slowly away. As it shuffled, its large claws scraped along the floor, creating the scuttling noise that had drawn them here.  
  
"Should I try and stop it?"  
  
"No," T'Pol replied, "It does not have the capacity for speech. Perhaps instead we should try out its food source." She moved her light towards the wall, but as she did so, the beetles inched away from its glow, making a sort of ticking hiss as they moved.  
  
"I don't think I'm that hungry. You go ahead."  
  
"I am a vegetarian, remember? Besides, Vulcans can survive for several days without food or water. In addition our digestive systems are much stronger than humans."  
  
Trip tried in vain to come up with a good reply to that one. He should have said something about Vulcan superiority. He should have tried again to claim he could do without them. He was pretty sure she'd keep at it, though. She'd come back with how they had no way of knowing how many days they'd be here, or how he should be more accepting and trying new things.  
  
Gulping back his aversion, and a good bit of pride, Trip reached a reluctant hand to the wall. He had to feel around a bit before finding one. When he did, his fingers sunk into the shell slightly as he pulled it off the wall. Though the shells looked hard and solid, in reality they were pliable, much like a soft shelled crab.  
  
Giving the offending creature a sneering look, Trip brought it towards his mouth. As he did so, he looked up at T'Pol. There was just enough light to see her eyes. He could swear he saw a devilish glint in them, though it may be a trick of the muted glow.  
  
"Say, ah, isn't this a violation of protocol to eat alien life forms? Never know how important these little guys might be."  
  
She maintained her usual enigmatic countenance, but that minute gleam was still in her eyes. "Perhaps you are right, Commander. We may wish instead to investigate the rock the creature was sitting on. It appears to be some sort of opening."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Man, this place goes on forever. How long we been down here?'  
  
"Two hours and fifteen minutes. In other words, precisely eleven minutes and fourteen seconds since the last time that you asked," replied T'Pol, almost biting the words off.  
  
Unperturbed, Trip merely turned to her and grinned, "So, are we there, yet?" Seeing T'Pol's raised eyebrow, he went on, "Sorry, bad joke."  
  
T'Pol appeared mildly placated, but it didn't stop Trip from grinning like he'd just caught the canary. "Sure you don't want me to teach you any more games?" he asked, failing to look deceptively innocent.  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I had quite enough of your 'games' with…"  
  
"I spy." She merely nodded agreement. "What's wrong with 'I spy'?"  
  
"It might have been a thought provoking game," T'Pol admitted, "if the answer had not always been 'glowing lichen'."  
  
"Well," he replied, his grin showing not a bit of remorse, "That's all there is down here."  
  
The strange moss had done well in the underground tunnel where they walked. So well, in fact, that it had grown down the walls, and in some places was making it's way across the floor.  
  
"Too bad I didn't think to bring my shades," said Trip. "I think my corneas are being burned off by this light," he joked.  
  
T'Pol pulled out her scanner and studied the lichen. "I see no indication that the light emitted is harmful," she said, "perhaps you should…"  
  
"Oh, put it away," Trip interrupted, laying his hand gently on her arm to push it down. He expected at least a raised eyebrow at the touch, but she hadn't seemed to notice. "Don't you know by now not to pay attention to half the things I say?"  
  
"Of course, Commander," she replied, though her bland countenance implied confusion. After too long a pause, she began almost hesitantly, "It is strange that the lichen grows in such profusion in this tunnel system."  
  
"Maybe those beetles feed off of it."  
  
"That is possible, though unlikely, as they seem to shy away from the light. I believe that is what keeps them away from these passages."  
  
"Hmm, maybe," Trip mused, "They looked like burrowing insects. Maybe the lichen kinda took over their territory and forced them out of that open entrance we found in the building upstairs." After another long pause, he changed the subject, "Haven't seen any more off-shoots from the main passage. Guess there aren't any more settlements like the one where we started."  
  
"That would imply that this passage connects the settlement we were in to something of significance, possibly even additional resources."  
  
They walked in companionable silence for some time before Trip grinned impishly and said, "Hey, how long have we been down here?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
After another half hour of walking, they could see a change in the passageway ahead. As they drew closer, they could make out steps rising from the tunnel floor.  
  
"Finally!" Trip said, exasperated. "If I weren't already hungry enough, there's nothing like two or three hours of walking to make a man forget he's out of food."  
  
"There is still one more snack bar. If you are that hungry, you are welcome to…"  
  
"Don't even say it," he interrupted, "my momma would never forgive me if I let a woman go hungry so I could eat."  
  
"I must repeat, Commander, that Vulcans can go for several days without…"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he interrupted again, smirking to soften his words, "Here we go with another tale about superior Vulcan physiognomy. When T'Pol look like she'd try to plead her case again, he raised his eyebrows and wagged a finger at her with an accompanying shake of the head.  
  
The conversation had given them enough time to reach the stairs, and they started up them. The top was blocked off, as they'd expected, but a slight thinning in the 'ceiling of lichen' hinted that this was meant to move.  
  
Trip raised his arms above his head, and the giant stone above him lifted easily and slid to the side, as if of its own accord. Stepping through, he almost forgot to help T'Pol, he was so shocked by what he saw. They had stepped out directly into a hydroponics lab full of living plants overburden with fruit.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Trip was still munching on something that tasted like an odd combination between a nectarine and a pear, as he walked along, eyes fixed to the ceiling. He was tracing the flow of electricity into and out of the hydroponics lab. The vegetation here was growing so thick that it seemed about to overwhelm the simple grow lights, but they continued to shine unabated.  
  
"Gotta find that power source," he mumbled to himself, brow furrowing as he lost the power lines amongst the branches of a tree that had grown to ceiling height, its limbs spreading outward when they could no longer go up.  
  
If they'd ever held a doubt that something here was still providing power to the systems that blocked Enterprise, one look at this lab would have squelched it. There was a slight indication that there had once been orderly plantings in contained tanks, but now the room was more like a contained jungle. Filters still pumped air and nutrients into large tanks, but the unused fruit and dying leaves had fallen to the floor, creating a pungent carpet. Microrganisms must have been introduced into the room, because they'd decayed years or maybe centuries of dead fauna enough that new plants had taken root along the ground.  
  
He was still looking for the source of electricity, when he heard T'Pol's call.  
  
"Commander, over here."  
  
She was standing calmly as always, but he detected a slight air of anticipation about her. Behind her, she had uncovered a patch, clearly showing a console underneath.  
  
"Is that what we've been looking for?"  
  
"I'm unfamiliar with any of these systems, but it appears to be a communications station."  
  
"What's that blinking?"  
  
"I believe its an incoming message."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Two hours later they stood, heads bent close in consultation, listening to the gibberish still coming from their translater.  
  
"Nah, it's just not sophisticated enough. I've been looking at this panel over here," Trip said, pointing to her left, "and I think I can reverse it for input."  
  
"It would seem logical that this race's translators are more capable than our own."  
  
Trip leaned in front of her to tap out a variety of sequences on the panel. Trying to get a better view of the screen, T'Pol bent forward, laying her hand on Trip's back for support.  
  
"I think you have it, Commander."  
  
"Good, playback the language sequence."  
  
T'Pol did so, and they waited with baited breath for a reaction. A quiet blip was the only response they received. "Okay, now to tie it in to the message. Keep your fingers crosed."  
  
He tapped out a few more commands, then relaxed onto his forearms to wait for the result.  
  
"Greetings, Halaudin settlers."  
  
Trip let out a loud whoop of triumph as he bounced upright. He had a strong urge to hug something. Looking at T'Pol's face, and realizing how close she was, he immediately thought better of it.  
  
"We have received the latest transmission of your anticipated lift off time, and are anxious for your first interspacial communication. By our calculations, you should have pulled free of the planet's gravity several hours ago. We have been expecting your first check in for some time. Please communicate immediately."  
  
Trip's face fell slowly as he listened. Though she retained her usual calm, he could tell that T'Pol was also affected by the unsettling message.  
  
After a short pause and an announced star date, it continued, "Greetings, Halaudin settlers. It appears that your interstellar transmitter did not survive your early ordeals as well as you had hoped. The High Council hopes that you will be able to repair it in flight, and anxiously awaits the triumphant return of you and your cargo. Please communicate as soon as you are able."  
  
There were several more entreaties for contact to follow. A sinking feeling had already settled in Trip's gut before a more subdued voice made the final entry, "Halaudin settlers: It has been one month since your anticipated arrival. We held hope for a great many weeks that transmission problems had forced you to return back to the settlement rather than home as we expected. As there has been ample time for you to return to your settlement and renew contact, The High Council has been forced to inform your families that you are presumed deceased. Your people continue to pray daily for your recovery and for the success of your mission. Our blessings and our gratitude for your sacrifice be with you."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Let the flame guide you, let your thoughts be free."  
  
Trip stared at the small bonfire of vegetation as he'd been instructed. He was never one for mystic pursuits, but the recording had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Up until now it had all been one grand adventure. He'd almost forgotten that Enterprise was trapped far above them. Knowing that one group of people had not made it safely from here shed a new perspective on their situation.  
  
They had agreed that the trek back to the settlement was pointless until they'd had time to explore their new location. Well fed for the first time all day, Trip struggled to keep his eyes on the flame, and to concentrate on the mellow, soothing voice.  
  
He didn't even notice when he'd lay down, nor when he'd let go of his concern for their situation. He could think of nothing concrete, feel nothing unsettling, and could only hear a soft, rich drone in the back of his subconscious. Heaving one last heavy sigh, Trip Tucker gave in to sleep, as a fulfilled smile settled onto his features. 


	4. Day 3

Disclaimers: Please insert your own witty "I'm just having fun, Paramount, please don't sue me" disclaimer here.  
  
Authors Notes: Unexpected activity from a hostile, abandoned planet gives Trip and T'Pol the chance to see beyond their misconceptions. Rating changed to PG for language. We rejoin our heros, trapped on an alien planet, seeking out the dangerous force that strives to entrap them while they battle the elments, blah, blah, blah.  
  
More Notes: I apologize for taking so long to update this chapter. I couldn't get it uploaded before I went to England on vacation, then I had to wait for the hardware upgrades.  
  
Archive: Ask first, if only so I know of some new places for great reading.  
  
Chapter 4: Day 3  
  
The deep sultry voice was back. As he drifted on the edge of sleep, it cascaded around whispers in the back of his mind. He felt as though he should wake up and hear what the voice had to say, but his body and mind were floating detached and just out of reach. It felt wonderful. Wonderful and calm. He longed to hear that sultry voice again. As if in answer to a telepathic plea, it spoke, "Understood, Captain. We will await the transporter at our original location."  
  
Trip sat upright immediately. He blinked repeatedly and tried to clear the sleep from his brain. His face wore a silly smile of deep contentment, and he smacked his lips several times, trying to wake.  
  
T'Pol handed Trip a cup of water, and he nodded his thanks. "You get through to the cap'n?" he croaked.  
  
"Yes. The comm system appears to filter out much of the noise that blocked our earlier transmissions. However, Mr. Reed does not feel that he can transport us through the cave walls."  
  
"Cave?" Trip asked, feeling that he was still missing something of significance.  
  
"Yes, the path we took led into the mountains. I have only seen enough to know that we are in a series of caves, some natural, some carved by humanoids."  
  
"So, is Malcolm expecting us home for dinner?"  
  
"No. The next window of opportunity will occur at approximately 09:30 tomorrow."  
  
"How long's that give us?"  
  
"Just over twenty-four hours."  
  
"Right," he pronounced loudly, rubbing his hand through his hair to wake up. As he stood, Trip scratched at two days worth of stubble on his chin. "Let's take our breakfast with us and get moving, then."  
  
As he passed by T'Pol, she wrinkled her nose slightly, but made no other move. Trip leaned back and into her face. "No more jokes about me smelling, now Sunshine. Your looking none to fresh anymore, yourself," he said, winking.  
  
That wasn't entirely true. She looked much more at peace than he had seen for the past two days. She was at least as dirty as he was, but something about the way she carried herself made dust and dirt look like a regal mantle, rather than scruffy grime.  
  
"I feel completely rested," she began in retaliation.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he said, "I had the best sleep of my life." Handing her a piece of fruit, Trip raised his eyes to her almost shyly and said softly, "I can see why you put so much store in meditating. I feel like I could handle anything today." He lowered his eyes quickly, embarrassed. T'Pol could think of nothing to say in response.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Empty again," Trip said, unnecessarily. "They built enough of these hangars to house all of Starfleet, and every one of them so far's been empty. You said there were more levels of these things?"  
  
"Yes, but only on this far side where we're blocked from the wind. Five empty hangars hardly makes a fleet, however, Commander, if they were even intended for such."  
  
"Don't know of any other reason why you'd carve a whole big enough to hold a spaceship, completely open to the outside, unless you actually expected to park a spaceship in it."  
  
"There could be many reasons why." "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he interrupted, grinning at her, "There I go again, shooting off my mouth and jumping to conclusions. This one doesn't look half finished, though. I think maybe we started off in the wrong direction. Let's back track and see what's on the other side of hydroponics." "The seems a logical course of action," she said, not even put out by his banter.  
  
They didn't have to travel far to find what they were looking for. The first room to the left of the hydroponics lab was a big as any of the others they had found that day. This, too, had no far wall, and faced out towards the back of the mountain. This hangar was different from the others, though. This one contained a ship.  
  
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The glaring red light continued to bathe the consul to their right in a metered glow. It's insistent flashing cast weird shadows all along the hull of the ship, bouncing back from irregular crevices and juttings of the rock fall that had crushed its hull.  
  
T'Pol had stopped short, and Trip unconsciously laid a supportive hand on her back. She didn't even seem to notice it was there.  
  
"Think there's any body in there?" Trip asked, one eye squinting in consternation. "Not alive, surely," T'Pol replied blandly. He noticed that she avoided looking at the ship, though.  
  
Instead, T'Pol made her way to the consul that took up most of the wall to their right. Closest to them, Trip could make out a panel much like the one in hydroponics, but T'Pol headed more towards the center, where the red, flashing bulb was housed.  
  
He made his way to the closest panel, and tapped his way through a series of screens. T'Pol stood up and turned to him just as he said, "Tucker to Enterprise." Before he'd finished talking, the pulsating red stopped, and he realized that lights similar to those in hydroponics lined the ceiling.  
  
The Captain's excited voice replied, "Great going Trip! Enterprise is clear and ready to move into orbit." "Can't take the credit for that one, Cap'n. T'Pol's your miracle worker." She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement. "You finding any damage done to my ship?" "Your ship?" Archer laughed, "Enterprise is just fine, Trip." Trip's face split into a wide grin, "Glad to hear it. We'll poke around here the rest of the day, and see you guys bright and early tomorrow morning." "We're looking forward to it, Trip. Archer out."  
  
Turning to T'Pol, Trip asked, "So, what'd you do?" "I turned it off." "That's it? We came all this way to flip a switch?" "Apparently." "Huh. Hardly seems worth the trouble." "Perhaps we should find out what caused the disturbance, to prevent it from capturing Enterprise again."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Okay, I think I've got it, " Trip called over his shoulder. T'Pol came to him and leaned in to see the screen in front of him. Trip tried not to think about what might be brushing up against his back just then. When he looked back again, she was so close that he could feel her breath against his cheek. "Uh, you were right," he went on, turning back to the screen, "These are definitely security controls. Looks like they had scanners keeping an eye out for aerial attack, and this was set to freeze the enemy in their tracks. I guess the rock fall triggered it, and it was still looking for something to catch when Enterprise flew right into the trap."  
  
T'Pol nodded in understanding, "I have found nothing in the way of logs or other records. It appears that data has been removed, and in fact the system seems to be in the first stages of shutting down. The only information still available was in the hydroponics lab. All of the records were still in place, including all classifications of plant life, and history of germination."  
  
"You think they were engineering new species?"  
  
"It would appear so. Detailed records existed for all fauna, including references to fields in the settlement, and a detailed inventory of genetically enhanced seeds that were to be packed aboard the ship."  
  
"Guess that settles it, then. The only place to find the rest of that information is aboard that ship."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Entering the ship was easier than they had thought, but both were reluctant to do so, having a reasonable idea of what they could expect to find.  
  
"Perhaps we should leave them to rest peacefully." "No can do. Someone's been waiting a long time to find out what happened to these people. You know the Captain's gonna wanna tell them, if he can."  
  
Holding his breath, Trip stepped up and into the front of the craft. There was no one in the corridor where they entered. Making a sharp left, Trip headed for what he hoped was the bridge.  
  
The door to the bridge opened less easily, being partially blocked by rubble. Fallen beams and hanging wires prevented them from entering, but they could see no signs that anyone had been here when the disaster struck.  
  
Trip turned to look at T'Pol and nodded in unspoken agreement. They turned to walk the other way down the corridor. As they walked, they passed rows of what appeared to be long storage bins. The door had been knocked off of one, revealing a sleeping berth, much like those on board ancient railroad cars. The ship was much smaller than Enterprise, barely big enough to be called a starship. It reminded Trip of the diagrams he'd seen of old 747 jet airplanes. What they found on the other side of the far door reinforced this thought.  
  
Through that door, they found exactly what they'd been expecting. Skeletal remains filled the room. They were seated in rows, the safety harnesses still in place, though in many cases they protected little more than dust. Many had been crushed by the rock fall, others burned by a centuries old flame whose scars were still visible. They had found the former inhabitants of the settlement.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
They'd had to go back out and through an entrance at the back to locate the storage area. The cargo door was still open, and just inside a body was crushed under the weight of a large case. There was little space left in the hold, the job of loading clearly almost finished. Two more charred remains were tucked in amongst the cargo. Much of it was undamaged, but everything was packed away and looked unlikely to hold what they sought.  
  
They had managed to locate the catalogued seeds, clearly marked with a pictogram as well as alien writing. The two canisters were not large, so they took them out, conscious that they may be of significance.  
  
Returning to the bridge, Trip watched in anxious anticipation, as T'Pol squeezed herself under the fallen beam.  
  
"You sure you don't want my help?" "Thank you, Commander," she replied, losing patience, "As I've said, there is barely room for one amongst this debris. I have located the ship's comm system and will pass out the storage module as soon as I have freed it."  
  
It seemed much longer than the moment it took for T'Pol to come through on her promise, but soon she was passing a large cylinder through the opening. She came through herself soon after, emitting a small gasp. "What is it?" Trip yelled, ready to drop the canister and rush to her aid. "It's nothing, Commander," came the calm reply as she stepped through the doorway, "I merely scraped my injured arm against something." "Let me see it," he demanded, setting down the canister. T'Pol was about to protest as he took her arm and ran gentle fingers around the edges of the bandage. Head bent in concentration, a lock of hair fell across his brow as he peeked under the dressing. T'Pol resisted the urge to brush it away, marveling instead and his feathery touch along the rim of her injury. "Doesn't look like you're bleeding again," he said, looking up and straight into her intense gaze. He cleared his throat and dropped her arm. "The wound's closed up pretty well and is healing all right. It's not hurting you, is it?" "No, it's fine." "Oh, uh, good." Not sure what else to say, Trip picked up the canister and led the way off the ship.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"It's too garbled for us to make anything out of it, Cap'n." "Okay, Trip. Hoshi will see what she can piece together and run it through the translator matrix you sent us. Check back with us at thirteen hundred hours." "Will do, Cap'n. Tucker out." Turning to T'Pol, he said, "Well, guess we're off duty for an hour or so. Whadda ya' say? Feel like a picnic?" Raising a sardonic brow, T'Pol preceded him into the hydroponics lab.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "What! No stuffed animals? What do the kids hug when they get scared at night?" "Vulcan children don't hug. Or become frightened." "What, no hugs? No sloppy smooches? No zurbursts?" "Zurbursts?" "What about tiddlywinks?" "Tiddy-what?" Seeing Trip's unabashed grin, T'Pol said, "You are making these up." "No! It's a game human children used to play with sticks, or coins, or something." "You don't remember?" "Nah, they didn't have those kinds of games when I was a kid." Seeing her features settled into what he called her 'I don't get annoyed, but you're annoying me' look, he batted at her arm and asked, "What games do Vulcan children play?" "Vulcan children don't play games. They have learning toys to promote problem solving and logical thinking. The computerized toys are sophisticated enough to run Enterprise's sensor relays." "Yeah, I remember," he said, munching on his lunch, unperturbed, "So I'm guessing that duck, duck, goose would be right out?" "Human children play with farm animals?" she asked in confusion. "Some do, I suppose," he replied, smirking with smug satisfaction. T'Pol chose to ignore him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Who's there?" she asked in monotone. "Interrupting cow." Seeing her look of consternation, he added, "Go on, now it's you're turn." "Interrupting cow, wh-" "MOOOOOOoooo!"  
  
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Trip nearly choked on the sip of water ration he'd just taken. "What?!" "I asked what is meant by achieving 'a home run'?" "Yeah, I got that. Where'd you hear that?" "I overheard one of the technicians from Engineering talking very loudly with his friends, late one night in the mess hall. They seemed very amused that I could hear them. He mentioned something about a date with Ensign-" "Don't tell me! I officially don't want to know." "Oh, they were not discussing a sport, then?" "Well, I wouldn't say that."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Hoshi's gotten most of it pieced together and is running it through the translator message now. Hold on, here it is"  
  
The voice they heard was jovial, and contained a good bit of excitement to it. What they heard next was definitely a log of the settlement's history:  
  
.was supposed to have been keeping a daily record.one thing and another, you know how scientists are.detailed accounts of every drop of water given to every seed, but absent minded when it comes to personal logs.Right, I know, I know, this is supposed to be official. I'll get to it. Our purpose in coming to this planet was two-fold. First and foremost, we are scientists, and the exploration of our field is always.Second, was to carry out our official mission. Overrun with a healthy population, we found ourselves unable to grow enough food to sustain our own people. Curing disease more quickly than we were able to control population growth, we found our arable land used instead to house people, our livestock grew weak and died, and the temperature increasing, causing water for hydroponics to grow scarce.  
  
We came here in the early spring of this planet..  
  
.base of the mountain was rich in silt. We immediately set up our base nearby, keeping the ship behind a large outcrop on the other side of the field..still close enough to use to generate water for irrigation.  
  
We were here for some days.first storm hit unexpectedly.lost all of our tents and caused considerable damage to the ship's systems, which were directly in the path of the wind.  
  
Forced to retreat to the mountains, we were able to carry some of the equipment with us. Though we had come here with the hope of saving our people, we were now struggling merely with survival...It was in that first season of storms that we located the underground lake which eventually fueled our hydroponics.amazing discovery of glowing lichen, not strong enough to encourage plant life, but more than able to emit light as bright as day, and very willing to be transported to other areas and encouraged to grow there.  
  
The ship was immediately hidden behind the mountain, and eventually repaired enough to fly. By that time, we had begun to carve out areas in the rocks, and had created a sort of hangar bay in which the ship could be stored.  
  
.lives continued that way for the rest of the year.hopeful that the new hydroponics would be the answer to our problems, we created several more labs.also bays, in order to house the ships.additional settlers anticipated. It was several months before we once again reached another set- back.  
  
.the two labs on that side.Unfortunately, it was the very wealth of potable water that we had found that was their downfall. We had concentrated so much on reaping the benefits of the underground water, that we failed to see the dangers.eventually collapsed from decay of hidden streams within the rocks, nearly taking two lives within them. Though we continued to use the mountains caverns as a quarry with which to build the settlement, it was clear that eventually..would all collapse.  
  
Fortunately, we had just made our greatest discovery, as we have told you in several of our reports. The silt that we had found at the base of the mountain had been blown there by the wind, and caught between the mountain and the outcrop of rocks.  
  
.necessary to build the settlement several miles out, in order to catch the full force of the winds.The buildings were designed.walls of rock several meters thick.the fronts angled directly into the wind in order to funnel it towards the center courtyard..The front door can then be moved back to a safer distance, allowing the building to keep the aerodynamic shape.buildings at the back . built closer together, causing the wind to be trapped within. Throughout the season, the silt eventually gathers in the courtyard, and the walkway is now the perfect height for planting during the growing season.  
  
.using the water that is brought from the aqueduct beneath the underground passage.the genetically enhanced seeds are able to grow to full height in half the time, making it possible not only to grow them in this climate, but also to be used within the few remaining growing areas of our homeworld, making it possible to have multiple crops in one growing season.  
  
.looking forward to returning to our families. Five years is a great deal of time to be away, but we are pleased to be bringing such miraculous relief home to our people.seeds and food stores have already been loaded into the cargo hold.as soon as the hydroponics have been dismantled, we will return home, leaving the settlement and equipment ready for the next group of heroes.  
  
.from the planet Halaudin, signing off.until we meet face to face, once again.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence as the tragic story sank in. Eventually, they heard the Captain's voice, "Trip, do you think you could find these enhanced seeds, the settler mentioned?" Trip lifted his head from a concentrated study of his shoes. "Yeah, cap'n," Trip croaked, and cleared his throat, "We've already got them. We'll have them at the rendezvous." "Good. We'll see you at 09:30. And, Trip, you two be careful down there. Archer out."  
  
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It was late by the time they had finished replaying the message, and packing up the seeds and supplies they would need for the morning. Since it had managed to survive and untold number of years, they felt it was safe to stay in the hydroponics lab.  
  
They had eaten their dinner, and Trip had joined T'Pol again in meditation. The ship's log had unsettled him, and he found it hard to concentrate, anxious to get back to the settlement, and back to Enterprise.  
  
They'd spoken only a little that evening. Trip could see that T'Pol was drained, and ready to sleep when she'd finished meditating.  
  
"C'mon," he says patting his lap, "lay your head down." "I don't think so." "Don't be stupid," he says, frowning sidelong at her. "Stupid? I am not." "Yeah, sorry. Human colloquialism. Don't be illogical. You're still not up to snuff, and we don't have another soft place to lay that broken head of yours."  
  
T'Pol considered herself fully healed, but could not think of a reasonable argument. Perhaps she was not completely herself after all. Reluctantly, she lays her head down, sifting awkwardly to find a comfortable position.  
  
"How did your family feel about you being assigned to a planet so far from home?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Vulcans have been traveling to distant worlds for several millennia. It was a source of honor to my family that I was assigned to such an untried planet. The assignment renewed a great deal of respect for them."  
  
"Renewed? What does that mean?" "I should not have spoken of it. It is a private matter," she said, beginning to rise. "Hold on now, you can't just drop a bombshell like that without an explanation," he said evenly, smoothing her hair a little.  
  
"My family was considered.unconventional by Vulcan standards. They did not conform to some of Sa'arek's teachings, they did not always instill Vulcan tradition in their children as they were expected." "Then how did you-" "My parents died when I was still in my twenties. Quite young for a Vulcan. I caused further consternation in my family by choosing to live on my own, though I was strongly encouraged to embrace Vulcan traditions more closely. My continued education, and my posting to Earth did much to undo the damage done by my parents' choices." "What's so bad about them making a few choices against the grain?" "Vulcans do not live 'against the grain'. Our culture is seeped in thousands of years of tradition. I am pleased to have restored my family's honor, though I do wish I had had someone to guide my decisions and act on my behalf." "That's why no one stood up to Kaas' parents for you?" "Yes. It would have been the duty of my guardian to broker changes to the marriage contract, but I had none." "I'm sorry." "I do not regret my decision to remain aboard Enterprise." Her voice had slowed and become thick with the sleep she was trying to avoid.  
  
Trip stroked her hair again briefly. When her breating became more even, he leaned his own head back, and closed his eyes. 


	5. Day 4

Disclaimers: Please insert your own witty "I'm just having fun, Paramount, please don't sue me" disclaimer here.  
  
Authors Notes: Ah, at last, the end is nigh. Would you believe that I actually thought of the end sometime in September?  
  
Archive: Ask first, if only so I know of some new places for great reading.  
  
  
  
Chapter 5: Day 4  
  
The warmth of the blue light seeped into her skin, and she fought back the urge to close her eyes. Looking down, she reconsidered the cause. The man whose bent head brushed her shoulder as he examined her upper arm was standing very close to her side. He was also making a mesmerizing pattern as he smoothed gel over the bruise he found there.  
  
"Humans are very tactile," she said, feeling the need to start a conversation "Yeah, well," he began, not looking, "you should be used to it after three days." He used her elbow to guide her gently around, her back facing him. "You'd think that. What the hell is this? T'Pol! I didn't even know these bruises were here. Look at this! Why didn't you say something?" He turned her half way around again, as his fingers traced a gentle path over a line of bruises along her waist to her abdomen. "I can hardly 'look' at them, Commander" making him frown, "and I didn't mention the injuries because in comparison, they negligible." Foregoing comment, he tsked at another set of bruises along her neck. "Aw, look at this!" he said, stopping short to give her a warning look. "Jesus, T'Pol, you're one giant bruise. How could you just let this slide? You've got to be so stiff you can barely move," he said, emphasizing the analysis by rubbing gel deeply between her neck and shoulder. "I'll talk to Dr. Phlox when we've finished," she interrupted, hoping he would take the hint to end his ministrations. She was about to seek reprieve by asking him to turn, but she lost her train of thought as gentle fingertips slid up her neck and skimmed over to her ear, stopping to stroke and play with the pointed tip. She looked up through her lashes to see the rapt fascination on his face before ducking her head out of his reach. His brow furrowed in disappointment.  
  
Holding up her hands and arching an eyebrow at him, Trip took his cue and turned around. T'Pol smoothed the gel along his shoulders quickly, but slowed as she worked her way down his muscular back. She was unaccountably drawn to the taught lines and planes she'd found. As she touched him just under his shoulder blade, his muscle tensed, causing a hardened lined that she traced in rapt attention with a delicate finger. Commander Tucker let out a grunting breath. Realizing she'd become distracted, T'Pol finished applying the gel, passing over his back, and repeating the gesture. She smoothed the gel over him a third time, pressing more deeply, and telling herself that it would be unwise to risk unnecessary contamination due to inadequate coverage. Finally, she stepped back, and he turned towards her almost hesitantly, trying to catch her eyes, which had suddenly found the gel case engrossing. He looked down at her, and ran an unsure hand through his hair. "Man, my head itches," he began lamely, but stopped short as she reached up to him. Brushing her fingertips hesitantly through the hair at his temples, T'Pol avoided looking into his intense gaze as she said, "It is probable that you have also brought back some form of flea." Almost reluctantly, she dropped her hand and went on, "you should ask Dr. Phlox for a hair cleanser." Against her own intensions, T'Pol looked up into Trip's eyes. Their gazes locked, his fervent and unsteady with confusion. T'Pol turned away and opened the door, silently leaving him behind. Unconsciously, Trip's whole body leaned forward as if to follow her. Instead, he dropped his head and shook it, chastising himself for being a fool.  
  
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They were well under way when Trip got off duty that evening. It had been a sad business, contacting the settler's homeworld, and learning of that planet's fate. They had put great stock in their agricultural experiment, and had suffered greatly from its lost.  
  
So much had been lost, in fact, that much of the story of the settlement itself was gone from the peoples' minds. They had known of an effort to end the epidemic starvation on their world, but had lost all records of its location, or any measure of its success.  
  
Their leader was quietly joyful when told of Enterprise's discovery, and had high hopes that the engineered seeds and scientific data would be of great use to his people. At the end of their transmission, he had even indicated a cautious hope to launch another expedition, though such an attempt had not been made in hundreds of years, and much of their technical knowldedge had been lost.  
  
Trip heaved a heavy, but contented sigh as he helped himself to dinner. He felt good. He'd had a long and trying week, but he had a definite sense that things had been accomplished. There was also a nagging feeling of anticipation he chose to ignore.  
  
As he turned to head to a table, he nearly walked straight into T'Pol. "Oh, uh.hi," he said, barely raising his eyes to her. "Good evening, Commander," she said calmly, but he noticed that she kept darting her glance from his face to an invisible spot over his shoulder. "No fruit this evening?" "No," she said pursing her lips sardonically, "I have had quite enough fruit for sometime." After a long pause, he said, "Feels kinda strange not eating with you for a change." She looked away as if she would leave, so he went on "or maybe I'm just regretting my chance to try those bugs."  
  
Catching her eye, Trip gave T'Pol his widest Southern grin. Her lips arched ever so slightly, and she nodded her head, acknowledging his joke. She turned to retrieve her dinner, and Trip continued on his way, his grin grown even wider.  
  
--- Finis  
  
More Author's notes: Heavy sigh of relief! It only took 9 ½ months to complete. Yes, yes, nothing like being stuck alone in a remote location to fast track feelings and get beyond all those pesky hints at potential relationships which would normally take weeks to build. Stay tuned (someday) for Episode 2, in which Trip does something stupid. 


End file.
